


If We Were Silent or We Had Spoken (The Contradiction in Terms Remix)

by trascendenza



Category: bare: A Pop Opera - Hartmere/Intrabartolo
Genre: Community: remixthedrabble, Gen, Remix, five things, layers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-10
Updated: 2008-04-10
Packaged: 2017-10-07 14:04:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trascendenza/pseuds/trascendenza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We are how we are remembered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If We Were Silent or We Had Spoken (The Contradiction in Terms Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [If We Were Silent or We Had Spoken](https://archiveofourown.org/works/44847) by [allfireburns](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allfireburns/pseuds/allfireburns). 



**i.**

_Hell, he'll probably be happy. Competition's out of the way._

Matt closed his eyes, his mind swimming with _if_s.

He opened them again so he wouldn't have to see Jason's face anymore, so he wouldn't have to wonder, to damn himself for not doing a single fucking _thing_.

**ii.**

_He doesn't really give a shit if I live or die._

"He would have found another way," he said to the mirror in his bathroom, raking a hand over his face. "He would have found another way."

Lucas slammed his fist on the porcelain of the sink, but not hard enough to make himself believe it.

**iii.**

_She might care, but she'll get over it. It's not like she really knew me, anyway._

"Oh, sweetie." She ran her thumb over the frame of the picture, tight lines forming around the corners of her lips and eyes. "Oh, child."

The students didn't ask about the picture, and she didn't say anything about it. She didn't have to.

**iv.**

_It's all I can do for her. It doesn't have to be—it can be my fault. She can have a real life._

She curled her arm around her abdomen, crying so hard she felt like she was going to split in two, the pillow soaked with her misery. Ivy didn't know—she didn't know what she wanted, yet, or even who she was, but she knew that she missed him, and that all she cared about right now was praying to God that he was happy, somewhere.

**v.**

_If he'd—if he really—he wouldn't do this to me. I wanted to give him everything—everything he could have wanted. He didn't—he didn't give me a choice._

"I'm here," he said, standing outside his dorm room at Columbia.

Peter dropped the bag and leaned his forehead against the door, not breathing. Here, without him, was nowhere at all.

  



End file.
